THE COMMON SANDPIPER.' 323 



which sent the little Sandbirds hither must be seen 

 to. By the second week in May they have sought out 

 a nesting-site. It is never far away from the water 

 side, and although often in the most bare and unshel- 

 tered places, it is found with the greatest difficulty. On 

 the sandy banks carpeted with coarse grasses she will 

 often make her home ; she will retire some little dis- 

 tance from the waters and deposit her eggs amongst the 

 herbage on the higher lands ; or she will take up her 

 abode on a little stretch of sand, and amongst the 

 masses of rock and tufts of heather hatch her brood in 

 comparative safety. When, however, we do discover 

 her nest, we find it is invariably sheltered on one side at 

 least, sometimes by a mass of rock, at others by a 

 scrubby bush. As we stroll over this sandy waste in 

 full expectation the little Sandbird warily and silently 

 watches our actions ; she crouches lower still in fear as 

 we unwittingly approach her home, and when almost 

 trodden upon, she dashes forward with a feeble weet of 

 anguish and utter despair, and by her various alluring 

 motions endeavours to lead us away and draw all our 

 attention upon herself. If we were to pursue her, she 

 would lead us away for some distance, and then suddenly 

 gain the use of her seemingly broken wings, and with a 

 note of exultation fly rapidly away, to return when we 

 quitted her breeding ground. But let us look carefully 

 around near where she started forth. After a by no 

 means easy search we find her little home under a 

 heather tuft. Her bush of heather is the counterpart of 

 a hundred others around, and her nest is inconspicuous 

 in its simplicity. It is only a little hole, round and well 

 formed it is true, lined with little bits of the heather 

 and a few dry grass stems. The eggs are four in 

 number, placed with the small ends inwards, and in such 



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